


Why Don't We Steal Away into the Night

by savvyliterate



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 03:02:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10376409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvyliterate/pseuds/savvyliterate
Summary: “I actually got us out Friday night dinner and booked a room here. We’ve hardly seen each other in weeks, and too many people have easy access to our house. I want to see you strip for me, Burger Boy.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This began life as the response to a series of Tumblr prompts, and I decided it expand it to a full-on one shot.

Luke couldn’t remember the last time the diner hadn’t been wall-to-wall people. People were clustered around the tables, and more lingered outside waiting for an empty seat. Whatever depression the rest of the country was in, somehow it escaped Stars Hollow during the long summer of 2010.

A good bit of the boom was thanks to Lorelai. While ringing up orders at the register, Luke’s gaze flicked across the room to where a series of framed articles hung on the wall, all profiles by various magazines on the Dragonfly Inn. He hadn’t meant to start a shrine to Lorelai’s achievements. It happened by accident, seriously. At least that’s what he would insist on saying, even though Lorelai constantly teased him about how proud he was of her and Rory. And, well, why shouldn’t he be?

April had come across the first magazine article shortly before he and Lorelai got back together. It was the done in the year after the Dragonfly opened, in fact it was the preview copy Lorelai had gifted him with. April suggested that Luke frame it, deducing correctly that her father was still in love with his former fiancée. The week following Rory’s departure and their relationship getting a miracle third chance, Luke took April’s advice and hung it on the wall, hoping it would bring some sort of luck to them.

In the three years since, a number of other articles had joined the first. There were so many that he was running out of wall space in that part of the diner, but Luke didn't mind. He’d even taken a page out of Maisy and Buddy’s book and put a few of the articles on the back of the menu when Luke realized that Lorelai hated the ones Nicole had designed. Well, she never outright said she hated them, but considering how much he loathed any reminder of Christopher, it was safe to assume she felt the same way about Nicole.

But Lorelai’s success wasn’t the only one the town had had over the past few years. There was a renewed interest in the antique shops that Stars Hollow was known for as rich, retiring Baby Boomers decided to liberally spend their money on outdated knick-knacks. The eccentric festivals were drawing national attention, which thrilled Taylor to no end. Weston’s had gotten featured on some well-known bakery website, and to Luke's absolute horror, even the diner had wound up getting national attention.

Some Food Network hotshot had showed up at the diner with cameras in tow one day wanting to shoot for _Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives._ Luke still wasn’t sure what possessed him to agree to the whole thing. It probably had to do with his undying devotion to Lorelai, who had been over the moon and had sweet-talked him into it with eye flutters, hair flips, and one magnificent night on the couch where she convinced him with word and deed that his own hard work was worth recognition.

Well now the fruits of Lorelai’s labors had come to pass, and every time that damn episode aired, the diner was flooded with people wanting to follow in Guy Fieri’s footsteps. It also meant that Luke was busy to the point where he couldn’t even take a few hours to change the timing belt on his own truck. He only had enough free time to drive it over to Gypsy’s and toss her the keys, completely forgetting until Lorelai walked in the diner several hours later that they were scheduled for dinner that night with her parents.

“Who do I see?” Lorelai said, sailing by the waiting customers to approach the counter. She shielded her eyes with her hand, anxiously scanning the room until her gaze landed back on him. She clasped her hands over her heart, staggering back a few paces. “Oh my God! It's _you!_ It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten your face!”

He flicked a scowl in her direction.

“What was your name again?”

“She’s off her meds,” Luke explained to the curious table he was taking an order from, and Lorelai swatted him on the arm as she went behind the counter to help herself to a go-cup of coffee, invoking her privileges as his partner.

“I can’t help that I hardly see you,” she interjected as they swapped places, and he handed the order slip through the window to Caesar. “It’s not like we actually live together or anything.” She took a sip of the coffee. “So, are you ready?”

Luke scanned the room, mentally tallying who had yet to be waited on. At least three tables could use a water refill, and what the hell was Kirk doing with his fries? “Yeah, let me just get that table over there, and …”

“Patrick can do it.” Lorelai snatched the order pad and pencil from Luke’s hands and passed it off to one of the other servers he had to hire in the days since sudden _Food Network_ stardom. “All ready!”

“Lorelai, you can’t just-”

“Caesar, I’m stealing him now,” Lorelai yelled into the kitchen, grabbed Luke’s arm, and pulled him toward the door.

Caesar stuck his head out the door. “Remember, we’ve got Saturday covered, so don’t come back until Sunday,” he said. “Have a good dinner!”

“I know, I set the schedule. Still, I need to stop in some time tomorrow morning to get some paperwork done and ready that order for next week, and stop dragging me, Lorelai!”

“Say goodnight, Gracie,” Lorelai cheerfully announced and pulled Luke outside to the waiting Jeep, double-parked next to a fuming Taylor.

\------

Luke looked out the passenger window of the Jeep, wondering for the 47th time why he had to pick a Friday to take the truck in to get the timing belt replaced. There were reasons he preferred to drive, and as much as he would like to blame Lorelai’s habits, she actually was a decent driver. His stomach pitched from the car sickness that plagued him ever since he was a child, eased only when he was the driver.

He distracted himself by glancing at Lorelai in the driver’s seat. They had both been summoned by the Gilmore parents to Friday night dinner, and who knew he’d actually be grateful to Richard and Emily for this? This was the most he’d seen of Lorelai in the past month, despite their sharing the same house and bed. They were both working 10-12 hour days, and he was usually asleep by the time she sank wearily onto the mattress next to him. She was so exhausted she didn’t even stir when he got up. He only had enough time to prep the coffeemaker for when she woke before going to work.

Then Rory had dropped in for a visit between freelance jobs for _The Washington Post_ and April flew out for spring break. Luke hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten until April pasted his picture to the side of a milk carton and began showing it around town during the final days of her trip.

He drummed his fingers on the door handle, frowning as he realized they were going in the opposite direction from the Gilmore mansion. They were headed into downtown Hartford, not far from the convention center if he remembered his exits correctly. “We’re going downtown,” Luke observed. “Why are we going downtown?”

“There’s a strip club downtown,” Lorelai said.

He gaped at her. “Lorelai, we’re _not_ going to a strip club!”

She winked. “Oh, why not? You, me, dollar bills thrust at scantily clad people? This one caters to both sexes.”

“Geez, I hate those places.” Luke shifted uncomfortably in his seat, reminded of TJ’s bachelor party. “Besides, the only person I want to see naked is you.”

“Right back atcha. Which is why we’re here instead.”

He looked out the window again. Lorelai had pulled into the U-shaped drive of one of Hartford’s trendiest hotels, some fancy place that had opened just a few months earlier. She waggled her fingers at the waiting bellhop.

“Still not your parents,” he told her.

“I know. I lied.”

Annoyed, Luke started to demand to know what was going on when Lorelai leaned across the console and drew him into a kiss that caused every cross thought to flee his brain. They were replaced with an urgent, aching arousal that reminded him of every day when they were too exhausted for anything beyond a quick kiss and the occasional hug. The hand not gripping his shirt slid down the front of his jeans, making her intentions absolutely clear.

“I actually got us out Friday night dinner and booked a room here,” Lorelai managed once they gave into the need for oxygen. “We’ve hardly seen each other in _weeks_ , and too many people have easy access to our house. I want to see you strip for me, Burger Boy.”

Despite the waiting bellhop smirking at them, he pulled her back to him in kiss that fully let her know that he was on board with this plan. “Only if you strip for me too,” he said huskily as they gasped for more air.

“You’re on.”

They scrambled out of the Jeep and raced through the check-in process as fast as they could. Then they were upstairs, the bags Lorelai had sneaked into the Jeep earlier that day deposited by the bed, and their hands were busy disrobing each other.

“What about the stripping?” Lorelai gasped.

“Later,” Luke vowed, parting her blouse and going weak-kneed at the lingerie she had hidden beneath her work clothes. Sky blue, satin, and lace, and absolutely bought for whatever she had planned for them this evening. God, she was going to be the death of him. One night wasn’t going to be enough. It wasn’t going to be nearly enough to get his fill of her. It never was. When was the last time they had a vacation anyhow? It had to be Martha’s Vineyard and that was what … four years ago?

“We need a vacation,” he said, backing her over to the bed once she was down to her bra and panties. Those he would make her strip off for him. He kissed her once more, hands cupping her ass and pulling her into him, letting her feel through his jeans exactly what she’d done to him.

“You read my mind too much, it scares me.” She tugged at his belt. “Off. Off!”

He backed away, the urgency replaced by a playfulness and the desire to tease her until she was as half-crazed as he was. “Come over here and make me,” he taunted, undoing the buckle himself. He slowly undid the button, tugged down the zipper, and watched as her eyes went darker with lust. Her gaze slid up and down his body was frank appreciation, and she licked her lips before reclining back on the pillows.

“Fine. I’ll just take care of things myself.” Her fingers slid southward, under scant pieces of lace and satin, to touch herself. His mouth went dry as he watched her fingers play beneath the fabric. Her free hand cupped her breast, teasing it out of the bra cup so she could flick her nails over the nipple. Her breathless, needy cries broke him free from his momentary paralysis.

OK, screw playfulness.

He didn’t remember tearing off the rest of his clothes, just landing on the bed and grabbing her wrist. He gently pulled it out of her underwear and licked each finger until it was clean, and the taste of her was on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized as he undid the front clasp of her bra, taking a moment to admire her breasts. Damn, they really were perfect. “I really wanted to wait.”

She was already kicking off the panties. “Just shut up and get inside me.”

Well, when she put it like that … he slid inside her, silently echoing every prayer of thanks she was loudly moaning. When they made love for the first time nearly six years earlier, he had wondered if it would always feel like this: an urgent, incessant need that was so unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He wondered if he would always want her this desperately, and the answer had unfolded over time. No matter how far apart they were, hell even during those dark months when he was forced to watch her be married to someone else, he hadn’t stopped craving her. She needed her coffee fix, and Luke needed his Lorelai fix.

She wriggled impatiently beneath him. “Move,” she ordered, and he dropped his head to the crook of her shoulder. “Patience,” he crooned, at odds with his own warring body. He sank his teeth into soft skin, knowing he would leave a mark.

She grasped his hips and tried to move her own beneath him, half-crazed and craving friction. He finally obliged her, because what little willpower he had simply shredded as he pushed up on his arms to stare down at her beautiful, flushed face.

It didn’t take long. There was no way that it could. They needed each other, needed the sweet oblivion of release, far too badly. They were in tune enough with each other that they knew exactly what the other needed: a breathless kiss as his thrusts picked up speed, the right thrusting angle to needed to stimulate her clit. She knew when he was on the edge of losing himself, sliding her hand between their bodies to help herself along, and oh it didn’t take much at all. Just a few seconds, and she was crying out beneath him. He dropped his head back to her shoulder, gasping and shaking until he collapsed heavily on top of her.

When he remembered how his lungs worked, he pushed himself up and caught a glimpse of the clock on the bedside table. He rolled onto his side and huffed out a laugh. “We’ve been in this room what, 15 minutes?”

“Twenty,” Lorelai said lazily, resting her hands on her stomach in that way that told him she was completely sated. For the moment. “Still want that strip show out of you.”

“Likewise.” Luke reached for her hand, and she laced her fingers with his, resting it on her stomach. “We have this room until Sunday, don’t we?”

She made a sleepy sound that he took as a “yes.”

“You’re the reason why Caesar insisted I give Patrick a shift tomorrow instead of working myself.”

“Clever boy,” Lorelai yawned. “I see where April gets her smarts from.”

Luke pinched her side, and she yelped.

“Sleep, sex, and room service,” she informed him. “That’s the agenda until Sunday morning, and nothing you say is going to change it. I’ll throw your clothes out the window if you don’t agree.”

“First of all, that window is sealed shut and you know it. Second, I’m fine with that.”

She shifted until she was in his arms, and she snuggled into his hold as he kissed the top of her head.

“I meant it about the vacation,” Luke said after a moment. “We should go somewhere. We never did take that boat trip since April had to cancel the year Rory graduated.”

Lorelai pushed herself up on her elbows. “Who are you, and what have you done with Luke Danes?”

This time, he pinched her ass.  “We’ve done a couple overnight trips, and I’ve taken April out and even Rory out for a few days, but we need more time. A week. Maybe two.” Luke twined a finger an errant curl that was draped over her breast. Because it was her, because they were alone and stripped to the skin, he could admit this. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” Lorelai kissed his chest just above his heart and settled back down against him. She lazily swirled her finger over his stomach in a way that she knew would cause his body to respond. She had a habit of making him forget that he was in his mid-40s. “So, weekend sex romp, then we lure our girls out on the boat for a week or two? Or are you envisioning this more like the Love Boat?”

As much as he wanted an endless two-week sex romp with Lorelai, the thought of all four of them on a trip together was appealing in a way that Luke couldn’t deny. “One week us, one week with the girls,” he compromised.

“Done. We’ll make the arrangements while we’re in our bubble because, pal o’ mine, once we go back to the real world, we won’t think of this again.”

“I’m good with that.” He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, mind free from worries for the first time in a very long time.


End file.
